DVreeland

Stagnent waters fill the trench
red with blood

no hope of dry clothes anytime soon
our hands and feet
shrivled and cold
we don't dare stand too tall
for flying bullets will bring us down

tell me, why are we fighting?

our vison is blurred
sometimes from the harsh gasses
that fill the trench
burning our skin and watering our eyes

and sometimes from the tears
of fear of no tomorrow
or maybe our rivers run
for our families back home
that we may never see again

tell me, why are we fighting?

we fight to the death
for the things we can't touch
liberty.
decency.
honor.
freedom.
democracy.
words